VIII. Curse's Awakening
"Why so happy?"
He turned around upon being adressed, his eyes narrowing at the painful sunrays that were accentuating his headache. "I can assure you, old girl, my face is anything but happy right now."
She looked distractedly to the Anubis statue, where the hole they had opened the day before awaited them, containing a coy smile. "Well, you have that look."
His face twitched in confusion. "What look?"
They kept walking side by side, deliberatedly slowing their steps as in front of them Evelyn and Mr. O'Connell led the way towards their entrance to the city below. "The same one which you had when I had to hide you in Cairo from the manager of a brothel." She briefly looked sideways towards the hangover Brit, this time not hiding her amusement. "Has Miss Burns lowered her IQ and allow you to woo her?"
"You sneaky woman," Said he, ignoring the subtle insult. "I'm glad to inform you, my dearest Addie, that's none of your beeswax. How could you think I'd not be a gentleman?"
"I recall you've never considered yourself a gentleman." She pointed out.
"Ah, yes, nevermind, a man's entitled to keep his secrets, don't you think?" She snorted.
"Depends on the secret." Said she.
"Why, two can play that game, old moll." Mr. Carnahan told her, raising his eyebrow. After a moment of contemplation the little smile in her lips vanished, realizing what was he hinting at. He laughed just as they reached the entrance. Adele suppressed an involuntary shiver as the carnage of last night resurfaced in her mind, remembering that the warden had also died yesterday. A knot appeared in the pit of her stomach, and she couldn't help but give her three companions a small glance. She had been the only one who had wanted to take the body back to the surface and bury it. To say that the rest had been reluctanct was an understatement. Adele was aware her religious beliefs were much stronger than any of the Carnahan siblings, and let's not even mention Mr. O'Connell's. She did believe in God and an afterlife, just as she had been raised, even if she rarely went into the church anymore or she didn't pray every night. In spite of all of that, she still believed in the Christian faith. Perhaps she would try to ask again to bring the warden's body back to the surface to bury it properly. She almost chuckled, already able to hear Mr. O'Connell's reasoning. "He already is in a tomb, lady, and doubt he could find a better one too."
He had a point, she must admit. Besides, the warden was a Muslim. Were their funerals too different from hers? Mentally shaking herself, she hold onto the rope tied to the statue, following Mr. O'Connell, who had already lowered himself into the depths of Hamunaptra. When she was reaching their level, he helped her down to the ground. Next followed Evelyn, and lastly Jonathan.
The uncertainity soon was forgotten when her brown eyes found the sarcophagus they had discovered yesterday. Instead, excitement and anticipation coursed through her body as she approached it eagerly, running a smooth hand over the sand. The lock was already clean, as Evelyn had discovered the other day. Sensing eyes upon her, Adele looked up to collide with the hazel gaze and lovely smile of her employer. She returned the smile.
"Alright, so what we do?" Mr. O'Connell asked, striding up to them as he came to stand by Evelyn, at the opposite side of the sarcophagus Adele was in front of.
"I think we first should clean it to read the inscriptions." Adele sugested, glancing at Evelyn. No matter how small their age difference was, Adele couldn't deny the archaeologist was far more of an expert than she was, in spite of how promising her work was. Evelyn nodded, approving the idea.
"We'll need some brushes." Miss Carnahan circled the ancient coffin, drinking in its sight. "If my assumptions are correct, there should be one or two more sarcophagus inside this one." She told them excitedly as she squated at its side, measuring the depth it may have.
"Multiple wrappers?" Asked O'Connell sardonically, tossing Jonathan a brush which he surprisingly caught.
"Like candy," Confirmed Mr. Carnahan as he too approached the sarcophagus and began to lazily wipe off sand.
Mr. O'Connell handed her a brush and, immediately, Adele crouched to clean the sides of the sarcophagus, eager to see the hyerogliphics carved in the stone. She could understand most of them, but found quite the difficult task to pronounce the words in Ancient Egyptian. No matter how hard Evelyn taught her, the words were just kind of a nonsensical cacophony, whereas it seemed a second nature to Evelyn. Even Jonathan had little trouble speaking and deciphering them. Adele supposed it was given their Egyptian heritage on mother's side and their early education in the subject. Soon enough, the symbols appeared before her eyes, making her take a deep breath to calm her enthusiasm. She stood up, helping Evelyn and Jonathan clean the rest of the sand on top of the sarcophagus while Mr. O'Connell finished one of the sides.
The four gathered together as mainly Evelyn began to decipher the hyerogliphics, moving her lips without speaking. Adele run her fingertips over the symbols before another shiver crawled all the way down her back. "What does it say?" O'Connell asked.
She swallowed saliva, remembering the conversation she and Mr. O'Connell had had at the ship.
"How big is the possibility of..." She hesitated, "Of not coming back?"
Then his gaze changed to one contemplative. "You're one of the few people who has ever asked that." He paused. "To be honest, I don't know for sure. But you better get yourself prepared for the worst, lady. There's a reason for all the legends."
She squinted her eyes, her heart pounding a little faster than usual. "And which is that reason?"
He looked right into her eyes and said without any trace of doubt. "Evil."
Snapping out of the flashback, her gaze flickered to the American before answering him. "A warning."
"It recites various prayers to Inpu, better known as Anubis, god of death and master of the necropolis; Usir, Osiris," Evelyn said.
"God of the resurrection and president of the trial court of the deceased." Jonathan supplied.
"And Sejmet, goddess of war and revenge." Adele finished, supressing the urge to gulp. It was certainly odd to ask for the revenge against the deceased in the Underworld. "Portrayed with a lioness head, mane, the protective snake and the Ankh." She pointed with her finger for Mr. O'Connell to see. "She killed those who dared to confront or attack the divine or earthly monarchy." Adele finished, sending him a small, nervous glance.
"So that means..." He drawled, meeting her gaze.
Mr. Carnahan completed his sentence. "Whoever is buried here was very naughty..." Said he, recalling Evy's words from yesterday.
After a moment, Evelyn broke the tension holding up the puzzle box with an excited grin. "Let's find out."
Bernard had left her sister in their tent with the boy, not venturing again inside the tomb. Instead, he paced at its entrance, beyond nervous. The boys and the doc had already come out from the City, but he couldn't find enough courage to tell them what had transpired between Eleanor and him. At least not yet. He could already see the disappointment in Henderson's face and the concealed anger in Dave's dark eyes. "But what choice do I have? She's my sister!" He thought to himself. He paused his pace, his blue eyes lingering on the jar he was still grasping. The sight of the orchid made him gulp. Was his greed so big that he'd refuse to leave?
He was sure of one thing; Eleanor wouldn't go alone into the desert. If she left, he would follow.
After what felt like a long time, he finally looked up while taking a deep breath. He had to tell them, now. The sooner, the better. Finally making up his mind, he began to walk towards Dave's tent.
Meanwhile, the sun wouldn't take much longer to set. After he made it to Daniels' tent, he found both of his friends already there, as he had asked. Henderson was sitting on a wooden chest, facing the entrance, whereas Dave had been pacing, dead serious. Burns was almost certain that he had, at least, the suspicion of what he and Nellie were about to do. Without bothering to make small talk or sugarcoat the news, he told them straight away.
"Oi, pipe down! Ya can't be serious." Henderson said, looking at him puzzled. Nervously, Burns pushed his spectacles up before gazing back at them.
"I can't say no to 'er."
"Like hell ya can't!" Daniels snapped, standing up from where he had been sitting, on his makeshift bed, after he had grown tired of striding the place. "I knew lettin' her come was a bad idea. Ya always become a damn pushover with her around!"
Burns' eyes briefly flashed, angered. "Watch it, Dave."
Daniels stopped his restorted, angry pace, looking directly at him with one of the coldest glares Bernard had ever witnessed on his friend's visage.
"That a threat, Bernie?" He calmly asked, taking slow steps towards the taller American, who in response clenched his jaw harshly.
Henderson hurriedly got to his feet, setting himself between both of his friends. "C'mon boys, don't get all hood, will ya?" He slightly turned to Burns. "Can't Nellie leave if she scared or something? We've invested a hell lot a' dough in this. We can't just quit, especially now." He tried to reason, gesturing to his own canopic jar.
Burns gulped again, focusing on the blonde cowboy. "I'm not gonna leave 'er. I've already screwed things up, don't want to make 'em worse." He briefly glanced to Daniels, who hadn't moved an inch and whose body was completely tense. "She suggested ya go back with us, though. She's really got this bad... feelin'."
Daniels scoffed sarcastically. "Well, if the dame says so, we must obey right?" He spat the words, running a hand over his head before looking back at the other two Americans. "She was the one that wanted adventure, now that she gets it what she do? Run away like a coward!" He jabbed a firm finger towards Burns. "And drag ya along with 'er."
"Ya saw what happened last night!" Burns snapped, unconciously taking a step forward as if that would make Daniels decide to leave with them. "Can you really blame her? She's just looking out for us!" He defended the nurse.
"No one asked her to!" Daniels replied, head on. "And if that's so, why ain't she the one telling us this, uh?" That seemed to silence all of them.
Daniels bit his tongue before he continued and said something he'd surely regret later. But he couldn't help himself; he was furious, beyond livid. And what he despised most, he felt betrayed by both of the Burns siblings. He was like a wounded beast who lashed out to anyone daring to approach him, because it was easier to let his anger cloud his judgement. Of course anybody could see the logic in Eleanor's decision, but that didn't mean he was willing to. No, this was the third time in his life that he truly felt abandoned, and he would make sure it was also the last.
"Dave-" Henderson began, igniting even more his annoyance. At this moment everything angered him.
"I'm stayin'," He interrupted the cowboy, switching his glare between both men before finally setting it onto Burns. "Leave fer all I care, more gold for me." The black-haired man icely declared, strangely uncomfortable upon seeing the sad gleam in his so called friend's eyes. Not standing the sight of it, the guilty that it awakened within him, he sharply turned around, giving them his back. After all, wasn't that what he was best at? Avoiding feelings? Memories of Ruth threatened to resurface in his mind, and out of practice he pushed them into the darkest and deepest part of his mind.
"Sorry, Bernie." Henderson softly declared, indicating that he too was staying. He heard the sound of Burns' boots moving away, then there was silence.
Seeing her brother walking into their tent with a defeated expression plastered on his face was enough to confirm her suspicions about Dave and Howard's decision. Containing a sigh, Eleanor turned back again to finish packing her baggage with the few clothes she had taken out yesterday. She was done within minutes. Tentatively, she gazed upon her shoulder at her brother, whose back was also turned in her direction as he mindlessly packed his own belongings. Eleanor bit the inside of her cheek, resisting the urge to play with her free hair locks. She hated how guilty she felt.
"But they're the ones that have betrayed me." She told herself, and it was true. Yet, the guilt didn't disappear. Contrarily, it grew stronger after a second glance at Bernie's tensed back. Eleanor was more than convinced that leaving was the right decision. Then again, what right entitled her to force Bernie to leave as well? She had been a coward; she should've been the one to tell their friends of the departure, for it had been her idea. And even so, she had hidden in the safety of the tent, trying to keep her thoughts busy. Realizing her hands were firmly closed in two fists, Eleanor forcefully stretched her bony fingers while raising her chin. "You don't need to come with me." Her voice said softly.
After a moment, Bernard replied. "What you talkin' about now?"
She gulped. "You don't need to come with me if you want to stay here." She told her, her voice sounding more determined now. "I know how important this is for you three." She added, refusing to face her brother. Annoyingly enough, her eyes were watering too.
A thick silence formed within the fabrics protecting them from judging eyes and the desert sand. Eleanor was almost convinced that Bernard wouldn't answer her when warm hands and a small pressure on her shoulders made her turn around. The firm gaze of her brother rooted her to the spot, making her muscles tense in anticipation. She would've been lying if she said she wasn't relieved to find no malice nor resentment in his easy-going features.
He ran a smooth hand over her right cheek, where a tear had found its way down the side of her face. "We're leaving, now."
Henderson had been leaning against the tomb's entrance, absently chewing onto his tobacco with his gaze unfocused. Some diggers came, others went. It made no difference to him. Then, he caught glimpse of the Burns siblings exiting their tent. Eleanor was carrying all of their bags as she quickly strode away, towards the horses, with her own gaze clinged to the ground to avoid seeing any of them. He knew her too well, and the realization that she had no intentions of even saying goodbye hurt him more than he'd ever admit. Henderson could understand her fear towards Daniels, but him? He clenched his jaw harshly, looking as good Bernie began to take down the tent. When he was done, both men's eyes collided. Through his rounded spectacles, Burns looked at him apologetically, then gave a curt nod which he returned.
With that, he too walked away.
"Off to get some cash, Addie?" Jonathan's voice addressed her. He whistled just as she twisted her neck enough to glare at him with her eyebrow raised, "My, Egypt really is doing you good, darling. I didn't know this side of you."
She rolled her eyes, nevermind grinning a little. "Jealous, Mr. Carnahan?" She asked as her legs resumed the way.
"Certainly!" She chuckled, good-naturedly, in respone to Jonathan's stupidity as her steps took her to the American camp.
Some of the workers gave her a brief look before ignoring her and getting back to work. She ignored them too, navigating herself more confidently through the tents and crowds. It took her a bit more than she thought, but eventually she found Mr. Henderson, sitting on a rock while holding something with both of his hands. His attention was solely on said object. She sat down next to him, a bit of a distance she usually kept between the cowboy and herself. It was odd for him to not acknowledge her presence, and she was sure he had noticed her.
"What's troubling you today, Mr. Henderson?" Asked she, glancing sideways to the American. He chuckled wryly before answering her question, rather apathetically.
"Ya not usin' my first name."
She softly chuckled before trying again. "What's troubling you today, Howard?" The Brit caught sight of his small smirk, but otherwise, no answer. Adele fully looked at him. "What happened?" Her voice sounded softer than she had intended to.
Evetually, Henderson looked at her as well. "The Burns left. A fight broke the Cowbell Troop." He added sardonically, pleased to see the faint blush of embarrassment in Miss Jennings' cheeks. Yes, he had heard the name she'd chosen for them. He wasn't mad, though. It was quite fitting.
"Have they already left?" She couldn't help but ask, concerned. "Alone?"
He shrugged. "Think they got another guide with 'em. The difficult part's finding this place, not leavin' it."
After a moment of hesitation, Adele placed a cold hand on his left, bare forearm. In response, he placed his own right hand above hers, thankful to be able to blame her coldness for the goosebumps on his skin. "Ya're always friggin cold, Ice Queen." He said, lost in her face while his thumb absently drew circles on her hand. To his surprise, she smiled a bit.
"I know, my hands and feet are always cold, ever since I can remember." She averted her brown eyes from him, glancing at the front. "Bad circulation, I suppose." Before he could say anything, Adele had already spoken again. "Where did you get that from?"
Henderson followed her gaze, seeing that his jar now had the archaeologist's attention. "The compartiment where our teams almost had a duel." She took her hand from his skin.
"May I?" Asked the Brit while holding her hands out, like a child who wants his father to scoop him up. He offered it to her without complaint. Henderson was taken aback at her fascination; Miss Jennings held the jar with the most delicated touch, gradually turning it to inspect every inch of it. Her fingertips caressed the smooth, porcelain surface, the gold and jewels decorating it and, lastly, the falcon's head. When she was done, she turned back to him. "Do you know what is this?"
Henderson set his gaze on the object for a moment before looking back at her. "Not really." He moistened his lips. "Care to explain?"
The American could've sworn he had caught a brief hesitation from the Brit's part. Nevermind, soon enough it was gone as she began her lecture. "It's called a canopic jar. Ancient Egyptians used them for the funeral rituals." Upon seeing his interested look, Adele elaborated. "Normally, priests used to utilize four of these to keep the internal organs of the deceased and protect them," She slightly gestured to the jar that her hand held. "Each jar represented minor funerary deities known as the Four Sons of Horus. Imsety, the human-headed god, guarded the liver. Hapy, the baboon-headed god, looked after the lungs. Duamutef, the jackal-headed god, looked after the stomach and upper intestines. And Qebehsenuef," Adele offered him the jar, which he took after a brief moment. "The falcon-headed god that looked after the lower intestines." He couldn't help himself, Henderson made a face.
"Ya sayin' this guy has some mummy's intestine inside?" He asked while holding up the jar, the grim look still distorting his handsome face. Adele gave out a small chuckle.
"Precisely. Ancient Egyptians believed the dead would need his organs back in the Underworld, so they took them out after his death to preserve them separatedly from the body, therefore he could be reborn in the Afterlife. By the Nineteenth Dynasty, the jars used were these." She paused for an instant, watching carefully the American's expression. He was a mix of curiosity and disgust. Briefly biting her bottom lip, she spoke again. "That one," She gestured to the falcon. "Was protected by Serqet, the goddess of nature, healing venoms and medicine, deification of the scorpion. She was the one to cut a person's breath, but also the one to give it back."
After a moment of contemplation which Henderson spent analyzing his jar, he smirked. "Ya said Imtesy-"
"Imsety," She quickly corrected him, faintly amused.
"Guarded the liver, right?" He continued, making her nod. The American gave a small laugh. "Daniels shoulda kept that one then." Adele shook her head as she merrily joined in his laughter. After some minutes, both had calmed down. "Nevermind, the mokey is also fittin', Dave's lungs must be darker than coal from all his smokin'." Adele chuckled too, closing her eyes for a bit while enjoying the decrease of temperatures; she liked how easily her laughter was boosted with him around. Opening her eyes again, she couldn't help but ask after another second of hesitation.
"I suppose you'll sell it, won't you?" All humor disappeared from the atmosphere as both of them grew serious.
"What else?" Said he, "That's why we came. Get ourselves some treasure."
Adele refused to look at him, not even sparing him a glare. Stubbornly, the archaeologist locked her eyes onto the setting sun, her jaw clenched. "I should report you all..."
"Then why don't ya?" Henderson's voice was also taut.
She pursed her lips one more time, before standing up and walking away without any more words. On his part, Henderson watched her, hopelessly angered that, yet again, another person he cared for was deliberatedly distancing herself from him. He threw another tobacco piece into his mouth, hurriedly chewing onto it. Since when had things become such a complicated mess?
Sooner than Daniels expected, it was nighttime again. He sat by the opening of his tent, staring apathetically at the empty, spacious spot in front of him, where the Burns' tent was set yesterday. As anger threatened to resurface again, he lift his right hand and took a long puff of his cigarette. He inhaled deeply, feeling the smoke in his swollen lungs tainting them, before he exhaled, relaxing at the instant. The cloud of white-greyish smoke slowly rose to the sky.
Bernard hadn't come to them again, not even to let them know he was leaving for good. He chuckled out loud; if good-mannered Bernie hadn't had the guts to face him a last time, then he didn't have a clue why he had expected Nellie to come to him and kiss him goodbye. A meek coward indeed, one he cared too much for. He hated that he cared. Caring never is good. It's the easiest, quickest and stupidiest way to get hurt. He should've learnt by now, he shouldn't care for either of them. Yet, there he was, drowning in anger and smoke while also pitying himself, all because they had left. Because they had been strong enough to overcome greed, unlike him. All of them had debts, but did that matter to Eleanor? No. Otherwise, she wouldn't have left. Moreover, who the hell was supposed to actually cure their future wounds? He sure as hell wasn't gonna let any digger touch him, Dr. Chamberlain was only good advicing with Egyptian stuff, and barely so in his opinion, and Henderson lacked the guts to get over his disgust for any body fluid that wasn't blood or... In short, he was no doctor. "Damn woman..."
Robotically, he inhaled deeply again, then breathed out a mouthful of smoke. He contemplated the cigarette between his index and middle finger, slowly turning his hand so he could scrutinize it from most angles. The only legacy he got from his father, an addiction to nicotine and any smokable plant. His left hand, still hanging from Nellie's brown veil for his bullet wound to heal, closed in a fist. He had hated his father for as long as he could remember. He was no father after all; he barely aknowledged him or his Mother when he was at home, and usually spent most of his time and money somewhere else. Hollowing out the nearest bar's stock, or making a couple of hookers get their bills payed for the day. The only thing Daniels could acknowledge of him was his lack of a violent streak. Not that it really made up for everything else. He had been the first person to leave him, when Daniels was fifteen. Her Mother had died a year later, but he didn't count it as another abandonment. As he carefully inspected the cigarette once more Daniels could see the irony, that he resembled the man so much... It was frustrating.
Ten years later from that moment, he had met her. His own Delilah, Ruth Lane. Deep down, he was fully aware that she'd been too good for him; gentle enough to shut his demons and blatant enough to hardly ever bore him. He still could feel the fine, auburn strands of her hair through his calloused fingers, her pale skin and her slender body beneath his and those mischevous grey eyes, always daring him. A breath of fresh air straight into his choking life she had been. The only woman he couldn't deny a part of him would always long for; hell, he had even accepted when she'd proposed. After all, Ruth had always wanted a family to settle down and he had been willing to give it to her. Perhaps the only moment he hadn't been a selfish bastard was when he'd broken the engagement and, in the process, her heart as well. They'd often fight, but she would always forgive him. He infinitely appreciated her forgiving nature, but that precisely was what made him break the engagement. Would she have forgiven him had she found out that he had slept with a black-haired beauty a month before their wedding? Would she've kept forgiving him if he'd have still slept around after marrying? No, he wasn't the man for her. The pressure of marriage had been too much for him to handle, so he had gone to another woman. And Ruth didn't need to suffer for it.
Daniels would rather spend the rest of his life buying a whore's meaningless touch than do so while also leaving his wife at home. He may be similar to his father, but he refused to completely embrace his unfaithful heredity. Instead, a good pair of tits and a pleasant face could do; he had already admitted that he was a bastard, so why deny he cared about the looks of the women he screwed? Fast girls, whether prostitutes or not, were easier, and allowed him to deal with little to no emotions.
Miss Jennings' hair was the same shade Ruth's had been. He hadn't missed their resemblance. Yet, the moment that the Brit had spoken to him, he'd been angered by both, her determination -similar to Ruth's- and her demanding voice. She'd been the one in need, so she should've been the one with the tail between the legs. Daniels puffed the cigarette a couple of times. Eleanor also had some shared traits with Ruth. Nevermind, he respected her enough not to fall down that same path. Besides, she lacked some of the inner fire he appreciated in a woman.
Eleanor Burns had been the cause of his third abandonment. And there he was, internally moping for it. She and Bernard had given him again some stability; it only was fair that they were the ones to take it from him. Yet, he couldn't bring himself to hate them, not them. Both, especially Eleanor, held an immovable spot in his life, just like Ruth. One no one else could ever replace.
Daniels took a deep breath before letting the remainder of his cigarette fall to the ground, then he kicked some sand over it. He was standing up when his ears caught sound of Dr. Chamberlain yelling. He quickly turned around, his right already on the revolver at his side. But instead of finding more crazy bedouins of the last night, he saw nothing. Then, in slow motion, a weird cloud began to advance towards his direction. He narrowed his eyes. "The hell...?" Then, as soon as he saw the thousands of insects that formed the cloud, he turned around and ran. Henderson and most diggers followed him, shouting. Then, being the only cover available, they ran into the tomb.
"Where the hell it came from?" Henderson yelled as he forced his legs to gain speed. He never heard if someone had answered him. The human serpent kept running and twisting through Hamunaptra's corridors, not knowing what were they running from anymore. His thoughts briefly casted the vision of Adele Jennings' face, and he couldn't help but worry. He hadn't seen her since she left after their practically non-existent fight.
Someone's arm slapped his hard as the person fell to the ground, almost making him lose his own balance. Through the corner of his eye he noticed it was one of their workers, so pushing aside any feeling of guilt, he kept running. Only four people would've made him stop, and only one of them was there, running for his life too behind him.
At first Daniels wasn't sure of what had happened, but then he had come face down to the ground. Groaning in annoyance, he spat the sand out of his mouth and looked behind him. A damn digger was also getting up from the ground. Daniels hadn't seen him laying there in the first place, so tripping had been unavoidable. Without sparing each other more than a glare, both of them reassumed their race, but it was too late. After turning a passage's corner for the second time, Daniels bitterly realized they were lost.
He slowed down, the digger, copying him, too afraid to wander alone through the City of the Dead. He was speaking hurriedly in his native tongue, his dark eyes shining in fear. After a second, Daniels yelled at him, telling him to shut up. Successfully enough, the man fell silent as the American tried to hear anything. The place was eeriely quiet. Then, a gust of wind surrounded them, making the digger run in the opposite direction it had come from, scared. Daniels scoffed, "Damn coward."
An instant later, he realized. Like a wolf separated from his pack, he was alone now.
Adele had fallen with Evy through the moving wall, and she still could hear Jonathan and Mr. O'Connell's muffled yells for them. Miss Carnahan's arm was on her shoulders, holding her close to her as they tried to calm down and figure a way out. She hoped they, along with Mr. Henderson, were alright, dryly thinking that, indeed, Miss Burns was far from stupid. She and her brother now were the only ones somewhat safe.
"We should've listen to the horsemen..." Adele murmured.
"A bit late for that," Evelyn whispered. Their careful steps came to a halt when they heard someone moaning in pain behind them. Adele didn't know how she managed to suppress her scream from the startle.
Turning around, they recognized Mr. Daniels' back. Evelyn untangled herself from Adele's side, who remained frozen, fearing the worst. "Oh, thank God, Mr. Daniels! Adele and I were so afraid..." Evelyn was saying, approaching him. Meanwhile, the other woman felt tears in her eyes.
Then, when she gazed at Mr. Daniels' bloody and empty sockets, she did scream. And so did Evelyn. Wryly enough, Adele advanced towards Mr. Daniels, who flinched at her cold touch and tried to back away, falling to the ground in the process. She bent her knees too, holding his hand tightly. "It's me, Mr. Daniels." He had heard her, but still grasping her hand, he moved away, making her move too. Adele heard Evelyn screaming again, so she turned around. And then, there it was. Their mummy, menancingly advancing towards her friend.
A cold sweat bathed her, remembering the words carved in the inside of the sarcophagus, the words that now walking corpse had written before dying. "Death is only the beginning."
Henderson and the remainder of his troop had encountered O'Connell and the other fella just moments ago. When he'd realized Daniels was missing he had gone mad, screaming his head off for his grumpy friend to hear him. But then, a damn growing buldge on the ground had frozen them as they stared. From the buldge, countless of beetles had emerged, going straight towards them, so they had run in the opposite direction. Another digger had fallen in the new riot, and Henderson had risked a glance behind his shoulder to watch, horrified, that the man had become a corpse when the bugs were done with him. Now, they kept running, he at the front with O'Connell in front of him and Mr. Carnahan at his side.
The other American sharply turned to their left, and Henderson saw the Brit's sister, frozen, as O'Connell dragged her away from the place. Hadn't he heard his name, he wouldn't have bothered to check if there was somebody else in the room and would've followed the rest to the surface. But not only had he heard his name, he had heard Adele's voice calling him. That is what made him stop dead in his tracks and look to his left, his blue gaze colliding with Adele's crouched body next to Dave. He gulped, then jogged to them as Adele rose to her full height, making Daniels moan in protest at the thought of being left behind. Without helping himself, once they were within an arm lenght distance, Henderson placed his right hand in the nape of her neck, tangling his fingers in her messy locks, then crashed his mouth down against hers. It was just a couple of seconds in which he only pressed his dry lips to hers, but that stolen kiss was enough to give him life. When he pulled apart, Henderson surveyed her shocked, blushing face and, with a small caress of his thumb, still resting on her neck, he kneeled by Daniels side, ignoring his mutilated eyes and mouth.
"Dave," Daniels moaned, holding his hand out for him. Henderson took it, hoisting him up to his feet, afterwards putting his friend's arm on his own shoulders. "We're gonna get ya outta 'ere, ya hear me?" He was about to walk away with both, Adele and Dave, when a guttural roar froze them. He looked to his right, then let out a scream as both of his arms spread themselves and he pushed the other American and the Brit into the wall behind them, like a mother hen protecting her babies.
"It's not possible..." He kept thinking. The half-decomposed corpse, which he noticed was glaring at them with Dave's dark eyes, said something in a language he didn't understand. Remembering his revolver, he took it out and aimed. But when Henderson was about to pull the trigger as the mummy roared again, angered and with one of his dead arms reaching for them, all of them heard a meow and a hiss. Save for Daniels, they all looked to the left, just in time to see a man clad in dark robes holding up a wooden cage with a Persian cat inside. The man placed himself between them and the mummy, which roared for the third time, frightened. Then, the bedouin held up the cage while letting out a small war cry and, successfully enough, the mummy fled, making a cloud of sand rise and surround them. They closed their eyes tightly.
Henderson lowered his right arm from his face, still holding the gun. Adele was gripping his left arm forcefully, still pressed against the tomb's wall with Henderson's arm in front of her. He placed his right arm back in front of Daniels, glaring distrustfully at the man whose face, now visible, had tattoed cheeks. He glared at them too, then said something loudly in Arabic which he also didn't understand. But Adele did. The man had yelled "Here!"
From both sides of the corridor, more men in black came until seven stood before them. The one in the centre, the leader, a young handsome man with his forehead and cheeks also tattoed, took a step towards them while lowering the scarf covering half of his nose and his whole mouth.
He scrutinized the three of them, his dark eyes resting a while longer on Daniels. Upon noticing this, Henderson moved himself to stand in front of Dave, shielding him from the desert warriors.
"We told you, you had to leave this place." The leader said sternly, frustrated.
"The hell was that?" Henderson snapped, still not putting away his gun. "What's he done to Dave?" He almost yelled.
"That creature is an undead, a plague," Said he, advancing towards them. He stopped right before Henderson, both trying to stare down each other's nose. "Now he will hunt whoever disturbed the Book of the Dead. With his awakening, you have woken his curse too." Henderson didn't stop glaring, but he did press his lips in a firm, thin line, gulping. Daniels' moans broke the tense silence, making their rescuers focus on him. "We must take him to the surface, before the creature comes to finish his work." Said the man in black, looking back at them. He glanced behind him and said something in Arabic to his men.
"Take him, guide them out of the City. And be careful with the injured," Adele translated in her mind. She placed a hand on Henderson's shoulder when he reached for his revolver once more, distrustful of the two men that had began to make their way towards Daniels. He looked at her. "They won't hurt us." She told him softly. After a moment of hesitation, he gave her an imperceptible nod and, looking back at the leader, stepped aside.
The men took Daniels' arms and then guided them to the surface. The leader was at the rearguard, for he had said something to the four remainder men in black before following them. Adele slowed her steps, and so did Henderson, who had been holding her hand. "What will happen to us?" She asked the stranger.
He briefly spared her a glance, then fixed his dark eyes to the front. "My men and I will try to find a way to stop the creature. In the mean time, you must flee this place before he finds you again."
"Are all of us in the same danger?" She asked.
"No." The man said firmly. "Those of you who opened the canopic chest are the ones who must fear the creature most."
"Wait," Henderson let go of her hand, then positioned himself in front of the leader. "There's someone else who was there when the chest was opened. They left before the night, though."
The leader fixed his intense gaze on the cowboy's blue eyes as he asked. "Who?"
A.N/: I've decided something, my dear readers. I shall never again tell you a deadline for the next update, because it's obvious I don't meet it. Firstly, my apologies for taking so, so long to update the chapter. But I'm afraid college life is quite demanding, as you probably know.
Nevermind, I hope you enjoyed your reading! I had so much fun and angst writing this; my poor Mr. Daniels.
Thank you so much to everyone who has read, followed, faved and reviewed! :) I have no clue when will be the next update, but I'll try to make the most from my Christmas break. Which also reminds me, merry Christmas to all of you who celebrate it! *blows kisses*
Until next time!
~Se acerca el invierno
Beeswax = Business, i.e. None of your beeswax
Moll = A gangster's girl
Orchid = An expensive item
Pipe down = Stop talking
Pushover = A person easily convinced or seduced
Hood = Hoodlum, gangster
Dough = Money
Dame = A female
Cash = A kiss